


A Christmas Miracle

by spiritcrimson



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Character Turned Into a Ghost, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, Mild Angst, PINING KEITH, POV Keith, ghost lance, human keith, secret santa gift for nicole, very loosely implied soulmate au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-10-06 03:54:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17338100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiritcrimson/pseuds/spiritcrimson
Summary: There’s nothing regular about the way Keith feels himself physically being pulled into the room, and there’s absolutely nothing regular about seeing a boy, around Keith’s age, standing right by the door, arm outstretched, hairbrush clutched tightly in hand in what Keith assumes is meant to be a threatening manner.And what’s absolutely not regular is the fact that this boy is translucent. Keith can actually see through this boy.“What. The. Fuck?”OrKeith and Krolia spend the holidays at Adam and Shiro's, and Keith unwittingly acquires a (very cute) ghost roommate.





	A Christmas Miracle

**Author's Note:**

> okay so after nearly 10 months, I'm back with another klance fic. This is a secret santa gift for Nicole @astrolavas , on twitter, who said she likes ghost aus, as one of her prompts, and since that's something I've never written before, I decided to try my hand at it. I'm kinda out of practice, so I hope you guys like it. There's angst, and this is also the first time I'm attempting to write from Keith's POV, so that's kinda new and exciting! 
> 
> Also, quick note: ghosts can easily pick up physical objects and stuff, but making themselves physically tangible to humans is impossible, unless there's a special connection. I couldn't find a way to explain that in the story itself, so yeah. Exposition is my enemy, sorry.

* * *

 

The first time Keith feels the strange energy, he’s standing just outside the entrance to Altea, a modern, surprisingly technologically advanced yet relatively small city located in California. His mother, Krolia, stands a few steps behind. The sign board looms above them, warm and welcoming. Keith, however, neither feels warm, nor welcome, and it’s not just because it’s the middle of December, and the temperature has been steadily dropping, enough that his light leather jacket (which Krolia had warned him wasn’t going to be enough, but Keith was too stubborn to listen to) isn’t quite as equipped to handle.

No, this is different. He’s never felt this, almost _restless_ , thrumming energy before. Definitely not the last time he’d been here, that’s for sure. The energy isn’t bad, necessarily, just... _strange_. A little unsettling. It makes Keith want to drop his bags, right in the middle of the street, and take off running towards the source of the energy. He wants to know what this energy is, and more importantly —

“Krolia?”

Krolia, who’s been patiently waiting for her son to start moving, hums, prompting him to continue.

“Do you feel that, too?”

Krolia furrows her brows in confusion. “Feel what?” A worried glance at her son’s less than winter-appropriate clothing. “Are you cold? Do you need my jacket?”

She makes a move to remove her own jacket, but Keith hurriedly stops her by grabbing onto her hand and shaking his head. “No, no, I’m fine, Mo—Krolia,” he reassures. “I meant that weird... _energy_. Do you feel that?”

Krolia chooses not to address Keith’s little slip up, and simply shakes her head. “I do not. Is everything okay? Should we tell Shiro we can’t make it? Are you feeling alright? We can go back, if you like.”

“What? No, that’s. That’s not necessary. I’m fine. I guess I’m just tired from all the travel,” Keith says, glancing up at the sign board once more, a slight frown on his lips. “I’m probably just imagining it.”

 

 

Except, the further they move into the city, the stronger the energy thrumming within him gets, and by the time they reach Shiro and Adam’s street, slowly approaching the house, he feels like a livewire, his insides vibrating with an intensity he’s not used to. It’s kind of like how he’d imagine a shock feels like, but far less painful. It’s not painful at all, if he’s being honest. It’s just... _a lot_.

“Keith, are you sure you’re alright?” Krolia’s voice snaps him out of his thoughts. Keith glances sideways at her. “You look a little…” she trails off, unsure how to phrase her words.

“I’m fine,” Keith repeats, because honestly, he _is_. Fine, that is.

They come to a halt in front of the house, taking a moment to admire the pretty wreath on the front door, which Keith is positive was Adam’s idea, before he steps forward and knocks on the door. Repeatedly.

“There’s a doorbell,” Krolia points out.

“Shiro says it doesn’t work,” Keith grumps.

Before Krolia can respond to that, the front door opens to reveal Adam’s smiling face. “We have a doorbell, you know,” he says by way of greeting, grinning playfully at Keith, who’s now scowling.

“Shiro said it doesn’t work!” Keith grumbles, stepping into the house without invitation, Adam automatically stepping aside to let him pass.

“I, unlike Shiro, actually got that fixed,” Adam says, then glances at Krolia, who’s still standing (rather awkwardly) at the doorstep. “Thanks for coming, Krolia. Please, make yourself at home.”

Krolia tentatively smiles at him. “Thank you for having me,” she says, finally making her way into the house. “You have a very nice house.”

“We can’t really take full credit for that,” Adam laughs, guiding the two of them into the living room. At Krolia’s questioning gaze, Adam elaborates: “The previous owners did a really good job maintaining it. We hardly had to make any changes.” He makes to grab for Keith’s bag first, but Keith simply snorts and steps out of reach. Adam glares at him, but a moment later, tries to reach for Krolia’s bag, but she merely tightens her hold on her bag, smiling apologetically. Adam shakes his head. “Like mother, like son.”

There’s a very, very brief moment of awkward silence, where Keith avoids meeting Krolia’s eyes, redirecting his attention to the house instead. It’s not big, but it’s not small, either. Looks like the perfect size for a small-ish family. The living room has been decorated to look as festive as possible, four colorful stockings hanging over an unlit fireplace, a garland draped over it. To the side, an average sized christmas tree, still not entirely done. The ornaments lay strewn about on the floor next to it, and there aren’t any presents wrapped underneath it yet. Keith can’t help the slight grin at the sight.

Adam follows Keith’s gaze and sighs. “Takashi,” he says, as if that explains it. It does.

“There’s still plenty of time,” Krolia says. “Keith and I will help.”

“Speaking of,” Keith says, “Where’s Shiro?”

“Got some work to tackle at the lab, says he’ll join us for dinner,” Adam responds, moving towards the stairs. Keith and Krolia follow. “I have to join him for a bit, too, so why don’t you guys get settled into your rooms and rest up for a bit?”

Keith’s definitely not opposed to that particular idea, because while the little distraction was nice, he now feels the resurgence of that damn energy, and he really, _really_ hopes that once he’s napped, things will settle down. “Which one’s mine?” He asks. As much as he’s been determined to spend time with Krolia, he isn’t sure he wants to share a room with his mother, yet. Besides, Shiro and Adam have the extra rooms, so why the hell not?

“You can pick whichever room you want,” Adam says. “Bathroom’s at the end of the hall, if you need to freshen up. There’s one down here, too. I’m not heading out for a while, so if there’s anything you need, don’t hesitate to ask for it, alright?” He looks at Krolia determinedly. “I mean it. Please don’t hesitate. We’re all family here.”

Krolia looks briefly surprised by the hospitality, then smiles gratefully. “I appreciate that. Thank you.” She redirects her gaze to Keith. “I mean it.”

Keith smiles, and then Adam excuses himself, and then Keith’s making his way upstairs, one singular goal in mind: _sleep_. Maybe a shower, too. But mostly, sleep. It’s that singular goal that almost leads him to enter the first room he comes across, he goes so far as to grab the knob, and twist it, but something stops him. It’s like something pushes him to keep walking. Head for the second room, instead. Keith wants to say he’s doing it of his free will, and maybe he’s the one making a conscious decision to let go of the knob, keep moving forward, but it’s like he’s being compelled to. The energy buzzes restlessly within him, getting warmer the closer he gets to the second room. It’s like those blindfold games he used to see kids play at the orphanage, ones he never bothered joining in on. The warmer you were, the closer you were to the person you were meant to be finding. Keith still isn’t sure if this energy he’s sensing is a result of the long travel, or if it actually means something.

He isn’t sure what to expect when he twists the knob, and gently pushes the door to the room open. A quick peek inside shows that the room’s just like any ordinary room. A double bed sits in the center, with fresh sheets and a comforter folded neatly on top of it. There’s a desk to the side, empty and devoid of any belongings. A wardrobe on the opposite end of the room. A dresser. A _regular, ordinar_ y room.

But there’s nothing regular about the crazy amount of energy radiating from within, and Keith is positive he isn’t imagining it now. There’s nothing regular about the way Keith feels himself physically being pulled into the room, and there’s absolutely nothing regular about seeing a boy, around Keith’s age, standing right by the door, arm outstretched, hairbrush clutched tightly in hand in what Keith assumes is meant to be a _threatening_ manner, but the boy’s expression seems anything but. He just looks terrified.

And what’s absolutely not regular is the fact that this boy is translucent. Keith can actually _see through_ this boy.

“What. The. Fuck?” Keith lets out, unable to take his gaze off the translucent boy, who now doesn’t look terrified, but rather—

“Keith?!” The boy’s voice is shrill, face now contorted into something that Keith isn’t quite sure how to describe. It’s like the boy’s shocked and annoyed all at once.

“Are you a ghost?” Keith asks, completely ignoring the fact that this boy _knows who Keith is._

“What the fuck are you doing in my room?” The boy questions, and yeah. Keith knows that look. The boy looks downright annoyed now.

“This isn’t your room,” Keith says automatically. “You didn’t answer my question: Are you a ghost?”

“What do you mean this isn’t my room?” The boy nearly yells, and Keith briefly wonders if Krolia can hear him. Considering she hasn’t barged into his room yet, to make sure he’s alright, he thinks it’s safe to assume she doesn’t hear a thing. “I’ve lived here for the past eighteen years of my life, and just because I’m a ghost now, does not mean the room suddenly stops belonging to me, I mean, this is still _my_ bed, and I remember because I picked it out when Mama said I’d have to room with Luis now that Veronica had gotten older and needed her ‘own space’ and honestly, what the fuck, that isn’t even fair….” the boy rambles on, but Keith isn’t listening, is only really focused on one thing and one thing alone.

“So you _are_ a ghost,” he says, effectively cutting the boy’s rambling off.

The boy looks annoyed at having been interrupted. “Wow, what gave it away?”

Keith scowls. “You could be pranking me. Maybe you’re working with Shiro and Adam.”

If Keith isn’t mistaken, the boy’s face falls a little at that. “I wish I was.” Keith isn’t sure what to say to that, but looks like he doesn’t have to, because the boy looks like he’s about to say something else, but then abruptly cuts himself off. His eyes widen at Keith. “Wait a second.” He doesn’t follow that up with anything else. Just stares at Keith in disbelief.

“I’m waiting…?” Keith says, awkwardly shifting in place.

“We’re talking,” the boy says finally.

Keith isn’t sure where this conversation is heading. “Uh, yeah?”

“That means you can see me.”

It’s Keith’s turn to stare at the boy. And he had the gall to make fun of Keith’s deduction skills. “Obviously?”

The boy shakes his head quickly, moving over to the bed and throwing himself onto the mattress heavily. The mattress doesn’t move at all. That’s...definitely _not_ normal. “Unbelievable,” the boy mutters, “Of _all_ the people who could’ve possibly been able to see me, it had to be _you_.”

Keith doesn’t know why, but that offends him. But he’s also a little confused. “What does that mean? Are you saying I’m the only one who can see you?”

The boy smiles sardonically. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“That can’t be true,” Keith immediately dismisses. “I can’t be the only one who can see you.”

“You are, and it sucks,” the boy groans. “I was desperate for some company, but now I’m not so sure.” He eyes Keith with slight distaste.

“What’s your problem?” Keith snaps. “I didn’t even do anything to you? We’ve never even met before? _I don’t even know you!_ ”

It looks like that was the wrong thing to say, because suddenly the boy’s standing, and the next thing Keith knows, he’s right in his face, glaring. “You don’t know me? That’s—how—God, you’re so—,” the boy stomps away, furiously pacing back and forth, trying hard to, well, Keith isn’t quite sure what he’s trying to do. “Ugh, how do I make myself invisible to you?”

“You could just leave?” Keith suggests helpfully.

The boy’s anger suddenly dissipates, and his shoulders sag in resignation. Keith expects him to say something, but the boy simply crawls onto one side of the bed, unfolds the comforter and throws it over himself, curling into himself and hiding himself entirely from Keith’s view. Keith doesn’t know if ghosts sleep, but he hears exaggerated snores coming from under the comforter, and decides not to question it. Guess a nap’s out of question for him now. Sighing, he sets his bag on the floor, ruffles through it, grabs a change of clothes and heads for the bathroom for a shower.

It’s only once he’s stepping into the shower that he realizes the energy pulsing through him has calmed down to a gentle, almost pleasant thrum. Keith isn’t sure what to make of it.

 

...

 

Dinner is a pleasant affair that night. Shiro and Adam are here, Krolia is here, and Keith’s here. His... _family_. The word makes him feel all warm and fuzzy. Shiro tells Krolia embarrassing stories about Keith’s younger years, and Krolia laughs whole heartedly, and Keith can’t even find it in himself to be mad, because this isn’t something he ever thought he’d ever have.

For the longest time, it was just him and Shiro, living in a small apartment in Altea, while Shiro finished his Piloting education, and Keith tried his hand at school, and then one day, Krolia showed up and just like that, he had his mother again, who promised she’d never leave Keith, ever again, and held true to that promise. Things were starting to look up. Keith now had a brother and a mother.

But then there was a brief period of time, when Shiro had gotten into a terrible flight accident, and Keith wasn’t sure he was going to make it, and he’d broken down, and Krolia had held him close, reassuring him that it was going to be okay. And miraculously, Shiro had survived. Lost his arm, but survived. And then Shiro met Adam, got married and just like that, Adam joined their little family, and fit right in, like he’d always belonged. It wasn’t the easiest journey for a boy like Keith, but here he is now, about to celebrate the holidays with his family.

And a strange, translucent, slightly loud and annoying ghost, apparently.

Which reminds him.

“Shiro,” Keith calls out. Shiro glances up at him, gesturing for him to continue. “Who did this house belong to, before you?”

“The McClains,” Shiro answers. “Why?”

Keith shrugs innocently. “Just curious.”

“Why did they move out? This house is beautiful,” Krolia points out, and Keith silently thanks his mother for unknowingly asking the very question he’s been trying to find a way to ask. Well, not quite, but the outcome’s going to be the same, either way.

Shiro and Adam hesitate, and that piques Keith’s interest. “What’s wrong?” He asks.

“It’s just,” Shiro says, studying Keith carefully, “They lost their son a few months ago.”

Krolia gasps softly. “Oh, that’s terrible!”

Shiro and Adam nod in agreement. Keith isn’t sure why Shiro’s still looking at him like that, though. “Oh, that’s,” he begins, stops. So the ghost belongs to the son they lost. “That’s really sad.” He means it.

“Yeah, so the McClains couldn’t bear to live in a house that reminded them of their son, so they decided to move,” Adam explains. “Didn’t even care how much they were selling it for. They just wanted it gone.”

“I’d do the same,” Krolia murmurs. “They must have been devastated.” She looks at Keith. “I couldn’t even imagine losing you.”

Keith clears his throat awkwardly. Shiro continues staring at Keith. Keith raises his eyebrows. “What?”

“I just thought you’d have more of a reaction, I guess,” Shiro says honestly. “Considering you went to school with him. I thought you two might have been friends or something.”

That gives Keith pause. He went to school with this boy? That could explain how this boy knew Keith’s name. But Keith cannot, for the life of him, remember the boy’s name. There’s no way they could have been friends. He’d have remembered a friend’s name. “What was his name again?”

“Lance McClain,” Shiro says.

Lance McClain. Lance...McClain. Lance. Keith wracks his brain for something, any recollection at all. And suddenly, it hits him. His eyes widen, and then he’s pushing away from the dining table, and Shiro, Adam and Krolia look at him in concern, but Keith doesn’t care. He simply runs upstairs, and heads straight for his— _Lance’s room_ —and barges in. Lance sits cross legged on the bed, flipping through a— _is that intro to Astronomy?_ —book. He doesn’t even look up at Keith.

“I know who you are,” Keith announces.

Lance slowly looks up at Keith, a small grin playing at his lips. “Say it. Say it out loud.”

“You’re La—wait, did you seriously just quote _‘Twilight’_ at me?” Keith asks, disbelief coloring his tone.

Lance’s grin widens. “Did you just admit to having watched the movies?”

Keith rolls his eyes. “Look, I’m serious. I do know who you are.”

Lance looks at him curiously, waiting for him to continue.

“You’re the guy who was always late to class, and flirted with literally every single person in our class, including our teachers.” Keith crosses his arms across his chest. “It was really annoying.”

“I only flirted with the pretty ones,” Lance retorts, “And _you’re_ the rude asshole who always tried to one up me in class.”

Keith ignores the dig Lance clearly intended at him. “I did no such thing.”

“You always answered over me, even though you never raised your hand in class, and _I always did!_ ” Lance argues. “It’s fucking rude.”

“Why wouldn’t you just say the answer if you know it?” Keith returns. “This whole hand raising system is flawed, because it’s clear they’ll always end up choosing the kid who doesn’t have their hand raised, because teachers just want to see us fail. So, if you know the answer, you just blurt it out. Simple.”

“Okay but—,” Lance starts, then cuts himself off. “Actually, yeah, you’re kinda right.”

Keith was fully prepared to defend himself further, but having Lance actually agree with him? That’s unexpected.

“Still, you’re an asshole for not remembering me,” Lance says, pointing an accusing finger at Keith. “How can you possibly forget a pretty face like me?”

“I…?” Keith trails off, unsure how to respond. “I’m sorry?”

“You’re forgiven, but only because you’re the only one who can see me, and there’s only so much a guy can do to entertain himself before he gets bored,” Lance says, laying back down on the bed.

Keith’s face twists. “By ‘entertain yourself’, do you mean you...on that bed?”

“Keith, are you asking me if I jack off on my bed?” Lance asks, surprisingly calm.

Keith remains silent.

“No, I don’t.”

Keith lets out a sigh of relief. Hesitantly, he asks: “Guess we’re...roommates or whatever, now?”

Lance turns his head to the side and grins at Keith. “Guess so.”

“You’re okay with that?”

Lance shrugs. “Sure, why not?”

“You threatened me with a hairbrush, for one,” Keith points out.

Lance winces. “That was just what I was holding at the time. I panicked, okay?”

“You’re a ghost, Lance,” Keith says.

“Wow, I didn’t know that.”

“I mean, you’re literally a ghost. It’s not like I could’ve hurt you? You’re a ghost,” Keith emphasizes.

Lance grabs a pillow from beside him and throws it right in Keith’s face. Keith sputters, before firmly holding on to the pillow and glaring at Lance, who simply smirks. “Wanna try throwing that back at me?”

Keith glares, and despite his better judgment, and the fact that Lance is a _literal ghost_ , Keith throws the pillow back at him. Unsurprisingly, it moves right through him, and lands on the carpeted floor.

Lance laughs out loud, genuine amusement coursing through him, and Keith thinks it’s probably the first time in months he’s done that. He finds that he doesn’t quite mind.

 

...

 

They may have gotten off on the wrong foot, but as days pass, and Keith accepts the fact that he’s rooming with the ghost of a boy he remembers having a little bit of a crush on back in school (which, he’d rather die than admit to Lance), and Lance doesn’t seem quite as resentful of Keith anymore, Keith finds that he actually enjoys Lance’s company. And he’s sure that Lance enjoys his presence too, even if he doesn’t admit it quite as easily. He’s just a little more indirect about it.

 

“How long did you say you’re visiting for?”

Keith sits at the desk, flipping through the same Intro to Astronomy book he’d seen Lance read from, and which he found out, later, actually belongs to Lance. “Two weeks. Why?”

“And that’s all you carried with you?”

Keith glances over his shoulder at Lance, who’s eyeing Keith’s bag critically. “That’s enough for two weeks, Lance.”

“No it’s not?” Lance exclaims, offended. “That’s hardly any clothes, Keith! You need different pairs of clothes for different occasions. And what if you accidentally ruin a shirt or a pant? What do you do then?”

“It’s two weeks, not two months, Lance,” Keith says, rolling his eyes. “There’s this wonderful thing called a washer and a dryer. And besides, I barely step out of the house.”

“We should go shopping,” Lance announces. “It’ll be fun.”

“Just me and my ghost roommate going shopping together. That’s not weird at all,” Keith mutters.

“Absolutely not,” Lance says. “Come on, please say yes? I’m dying to get out of the house and do something fun.” He makes these impressive puppy dog eyes at Keith, and Keith’s a weak boy.

 

...

 

When Keith returns home with two shopping bags filled with clothes, and presents, Lance standing casually by his side, Shiro shoots him a baffled look. “You went shopping?”

Keith simply nods, kicking off his shoes and heading for the stairs.

“Alone?” Keith doesn’t even need to look at Shiro to sense his disbelief. His tone is more than enough.

“Yup.”

And before Shiro can ask Keith any more questions, Keith makes his escape and runs upstairs, Lance right behind him, grins on both their faces.

 

...

 

“So, you’ve ever tried leaving the city?” Keith asks one morning. They both sit on the bed together, the Astronomy book lying open in front of them. Keith isn’t looking at the book, though. He finds his gaze settling on Lance, instead. Lately, he’s been doing that a lot. He always thought Lance was pretty, while alive, but he’s apparently pretty even as a ghost. Who would’ve thought ?

“Nah,” Lance responds, staring intently at the book. Keith knows he isn’t actually reading it. It almost looks like Lance is trying to avoid Keith’s gaze. Keith wishes he wouldn’t. He doesn’t know why he wishes for that.

“Why not?” Keith’s honestly surprised Lance didn’t try to follow his family, try to be with them. Even if it was as a ghost.

“I was scared,” Lance admits. This is the first time Lance has willingly let himself be vulnerable. Keith remains silent, waiting to see if Lance will continue. He does. “It took me a while to even realize I was...you know, not alive. It sucked, seeing all of them so heartbroken, wanting to tell them I wasn’t gone, not really, but I am, aren’t I? I don’t exist anymore. It’s just...they couldn’t see me. They couldn’t hear me. What was the point? Sure, I guess I could’ve followed them, but what if I...couldn’t? What if I tried, and I couldn’t? What if I was stuck here? But then…” Lance trails off, taking a deep, shaky breath.

Keith, almost on instinct, rests his hand on Lance’s. Or rather, he tries. But his hand passes right through Lance’s, and lands on the book, instead. Lance looks up at him, a small smile playing at his lips. “Thanks,” he says. Keith, flustered, shrugs, but doesn’t move his gaze away from Lance’s.

“But then,” Lance continues, like he’d never stopped, but this time, his gaze is still on Keith. “What if I could? Leave the city, follow them? What happens then? They still couldn’t see me. I’d be in a strange new city, with no one to talk to, and see my family mourn my loss every single day. I don’t think I could’ve handled that.”

“So you chose to stay here?” Keith prompts.

“Yeah. This place has been home for...eighteen years. I have memories here. I know this city. I know these people. I’d rather be alone in a familiar place, than alone in an unfamiliar one, you know?”

Keith doesn’t know what to say to that, because before he’d met Shiro, he’d been alone in unfamiliar places, and sure, he might not have been a ghost, but he still was invisible to people. Easy to miss. In a way, he understands what Lance is going through, but he also doesn’t. It’s a little cruel. Keith, so used to being alone, finds himself a loving family, while Lance, the boy who’s been surrounded by people all his life, suddenly finds himself all alone. Ironic, and very, very cruel.

“Besides,” Lance suddenly pipes up, sounding a lot more cheerful now, “Shiro and Adam are cool. I’m glad they’re the new owners. Your brother’s hot. I had a bit of a crush on him back in school.”

“I—what?” Keith sputters.

“Oh come on, everyone in school had a little bit of a crush on your brother,” Lance says easily. “Parent-Teacher meetings were the best.”

“That’s gross,” Keith says, making a disgusted face.

Lance simply laughs. There’s a moment of silence, not uncomfortable. Then, softly, “Where did you disappear to, anyway?”

“What do you mean?”

“You didn’t graduate with us. You pulled out of school. Why?” Lance elaborates. “You don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want to. I just...always wondered, I guess?”

“You did?” Keith asks, surprised. “I didn’t think anyone noticed.”

“Kinda hard not to notice when your rival stops showing up at school, dude,” Lance laughs, but Keith thinks he senses something else there. Something that sounds like hurt. But that can’t be right, can it?

“We weren’t rivals,” Keith argues. Lance waves him off. “And, uh, I pulled out of school because that’s when I met my mother. She got in touch with me, and Shiro thought it’d be a good idea for me to spend some time with her. Reconnect. So, I ended up doing my last two years of high school in New York.”

“Oh,” is all Lance says.

“She’s nice, my mother,” Keith continues, and he isn’t sure what’s prompting him to share this with Lance, but he can’t seem to stop himself. “I was mad at her at first, but, I don’t know. Over time, I’ve tried to forgive her? It’s been nice, getting to know my mother.” A beat. “I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?”

“I don’t know,” Keith says, and it’s silent once more.

“I wish I’d spoken to you in school,” Lance murmurs, after what feels like an eternity. “Maybe we could’ve been friends sooner.”

“Lance McClain, are you calling me your friend?” Keith teases.

“Don’t flatter yourself too much, Kogane,” Lance retorts, and then, just because he knows he’s got the advantage, grabs his pillow and gently shoves it at Keith. Keith just lets out muffled laughter in response.

 

...

 

“Keith, do you like space?”

They’re sitting at the dining table this time, since Shiro and Adam volunteered to show Krolia around the city. They’d asked Keith to join, but Keith had taken one look at Lance, and his somewhat hopeful face, and turned the offer down. Lance’s bright smile was worth the “you should go outside sometimes, Keith,” lecture he’d received from Shiro in response.

Keith idly doodles on a notebook. He isn’t sure what he’s doodling. Random stars, planets. Lance must have noticed, hence the question. “Yeah, I like space.”

“Do you think Aliens exist, then?”

“You don’t?” Keith counters, setting the pen down and looking at Lance.

Lance shrugs. “I mean, it’s just that, well. We’ve not seen any? Ever? All attempts at contact have been unsuccessful.”

“Just because we haven’t made contact, doesn’t mean they don’t exist,” Keith says matter of factly. “The Universe is infinite, we barely know what’s out there.”

“Yeah,” Lance sighs, “We don’t. But I want to know.”

“Me too,” Keith says. “When I was younger, I’d convinced myself that the reason my mom wasn’t with me, was because she was an alien, and the Government was after her.”

Lance quirks his brows in amusement. “That would make you half alien, then.”

“It was a pretty cool coping mechanism,” Keith says, grinning. “I remember telling one of the kids at the orphanage, that someday, I was going to become an astronaut, go to space, find my mother, bring her back to Earth, and then he’d see that I wasn’t making it up.”

Lance genuinely laughs at that, and Keith, once again, doesn’t mind that it’s at his expense. He’ll gladly embarrass himself if it means he can make Lance laugh like that. “You’re adorable.”

Keith’s eyes widen at that, and Lance must realize just what he’s said, because he quickly backtracks. “Were! You were adorable. As a kid, I mean.”

Keith feels his cheeks warm. Tries desperately to fight the blush he knows is likely on there. “Thanks, I guess.” He goes back to sketching some random constellation he remembers, taking comfort in the warm, amicable silence.

“I was supposed to go to college, you know,” Lance says, very quietly. Keith looks up at him. “I’d gotten into this Astrophysics program. Worked so hard to get in. I wanted to become an Astronaut. Explore space. Look for aliens.” A bitter laugh. “I always thought I’d fall in love with a pretty alien I meet on some space exploration mission.”

“I’m sorry,” Keith murmurs.

“What about you?” Lance asks.

“What about me?”

“Are you in college?” Lance prompts.

“No,” Keith answers. “I don’t think college is for me.”

“You were always top of the class, if anyone was cut out for college, it’s you,” Lance says.

“Maybe,” Keith concedes. “I’ve just not figured out what I want to do yet. I don’t know if there’s anything I like enough to pursue yet.”

“Well,” Lance says, “You do love space.”

“Yeah,” Keith echoes. “I do.”

 

...

 

“I have a question.”

“Shoot.”

It’s a week until Christmas, and Lance is helping Keith wrap his presents. More like, he’s doing it all on his own, while Keith watches, because frankly, Keith’s terrible at wrapping presents, and Lance is very good at it, so why bother? Lance doesn’t seem to be minding, in any case.

“Why do you think I’m the only one that can see you?”

Lance stops what he’s doing and looks up at Keith. “I’m...not sure.”

“I’ve been thinking about it. Maybe I’m supposed to help you? In some way? Maybe you’ve got unfinished business, and that’s why you couldn’t move on to the afterlife?” Keith presses. “There has to be a reason.”

“Of course I have unfinished business. I’m _eighteen_ ,” Lance scoffs. “My entire _life_ is technically unfinished business. I don’t get to go to college, I never get to fall in love, hell, I’d been planning these _amazing_ christmas presents for my family, but I can’t even give it to them.”

Beat.

“I could send it to them for you?” Keith offers.

“That’s...that’s nice of you, but I highly doubt you’re here to send my family Christmas presents on my behalf,” Lance says.

Keith sighs. “Maybe you can’t move on because you didn’t get to say goodbye to them. Maybe if you got to do that, you could move on. And maybe that’s why I felt that weird energy. Maybe I’m supposed to help you with that.”

“Maybe,” Lance agrees. “Still doesn’t explain why it’s you.”

“I don’t think I have an answer to that,” Keith says.

Silence.

“Can I ask you another question?”

“Go ahead,” Lance says.

“How did you die?”

Lance stiffens. Keith knows he should’ve gone in with a bit more tact, but it’s something he’s held off on for days, but there’s only so much he can do, before his curiosity gets the better of him. He’s fully prepared for Lance to completely dismiss his question, but Lance surprises him, when he answers, in a steady voice, “Road accident. It was a hit and run, I guess. I don’t remember details. I don’t even want to.”

“That makes sense,” Keith says awkwardly. “I’m sorry for asking.”

Lance laughs it off. “I can tell you’ve been dying— _no pun intended_ —to ask me this since the beginning. It was only a matter of time. So, don’t worry about it.” Keith smiles softly.

“Since we’re playing twenty one questions, apparently,” Lance says. “I have one for you.”

“What’s that?”

“How the hell are you so bad at wrapping presents?”

“If I could throw this pillow at you, I would!”

 

...

 

The days leading up to Christmas eve are busy, to say the least. Keith helps Shiro and Adam finish up the tree, with the wrapped presents and everything. Krolia helps with dinner preparation, and Keith, when no one else is paying attention, sets out into the city, Lance beside him, to pick up last minute christmas presents (but technically not last minute, since Lance had been planning for these for months), gift wrap them, and then head to the local Fedex, and try and convince them to ship it to the address Lance dictates to him, as soon as possible. Despite his best efforts, the employee doesn’t guarantee anything sooner than a December 29th delivery, but it’s fine. As long as it gets there, that should be enough.

The whole thing makes a significant dent in Keith’s wallet, and he knows he’s going to have to explain everything to Krolia eventually, but for now, he doesn’t mind, not when he sees the contented smile on Lance’s face, knowing that his presents are going to reach his family, that he finally gets to say goodbye to them. Keith doesn’t know what that means for the two of them, if Lance will disappear tonight, or on Christmas, or if he gets time until his family receives the shipment. It’s something he doesn’t want to think about.

He wants to help Lance move on, for Lance’s sake, but a tiny, selfish part of him wants Lance to stay, with him, because despite his best efforts, Keith thinks he’s falling for him, and that sucks, because Lance is a ghost. He’s not even human. He used to be, but he’s not anymore, and this is the most doomed romance if Keith’s ever seen one. Not to mention, there’s no telling if Lance feels the same way about Keith, which, he most certainly, does not.

So, when Christmas Eve finally rolls around, Keith wakes with a vague sense of unease and dread. It’s the opposite of what he should be feeling. Tonight’s a night for celebration, yet he’s here, moping over a doomed crush. He remains lying in bed for a good few minutes, blinking up at the ceiling. He hears a faint groan from his side, and glances to his right, where Lance feigns a yawn and stretches like he’s just waking up from a deep sleep.

“You don’t even sleep,” Keith says, amused, voice scratchy from the lack of use.

“Let a guy pretend, jeez,” Lance says, pouting. He sits up and looks at Keith carefully, head tilting slightly. “You’ve been drooling.”

Keith self consciously wipes his mouth, while Lance laughs. Keith scowls. “You have bedhead.”

Lance looks horrified, quickly walking over to the mirror, to see for himself, but then he hears Keith laugh, and realizes his mistake. “Oh, ha, ha.” He glares at Keith.

Keith’s laughter fades, but his smile lingers, as he observes Lance. There’s something different about how he looks. He looks _less_...translucent. Still ghost like, but more... _human passing?_ Which is. Strange. Had he always looked like that? Or is this a first? “Lance?” He murmurs.

“Yeah?”

“C’mere,” Keith says, sitting up slowly.

“....why?” Lance asks, but despite his question, he moves towards Keith easily. Comes to a stop in front of him. Keith continues observing him. Lance shifts a bit awkwardly. “Keith?”

“You look different,” Keith says, voice still soft. Quiet.

“I have been trying out this new moisturizer, so thank you for noticing—”

“I’m not joking, Lance,” Keith cuts him off. “You look more...human.”

“I’m not. I’m still very much dead. Here.” He extends his arm out to Keith. “Touch.”

Keith lifts his hand, fully prepared for his fingers to slip right through. But that’s not what happens. Instead, Keith’s fingers find purchase on Lance’s arm. They stay there. It doesn’t feel quite like flesh, but it’s not like air either. It’s more...tangible. He feels a slight tingling warmth in his fingertips. Awed, he runs his fingertips gently along the skin. Hears Lance’s breath stutter.

“Do you...feel that?” Keith asks, fingers continuing to trail along Lance’s skin.

Lance simply nods in response, following Keith’s fingers.

“How…” Keith trails off.

“I don’t know,” Lance whispers. “It shouldn’t be possible.”

“Lance, do you think—”

“No.”

“You didn’t let me finish,” Keith pushes. “Lance, do you think you could—”

“No, I know what you’re going to say, and no. I can’t even think about it. I can’t let myself hope. I can’t, Keith. Please, don’t say it,” Lance pleads, desperate. Keith looks at him, sees the desperation. The fear. The hope. A jumbled mess of emotions. Slowly, he nods. Let’s Lance’s arm go. Lance smiles gratefully. “Thank you.”

For the rest of the day, neither of them mention it. Keith still can’t help but notice how much more human Lance seems to be looking, but for Lance’s sake, says nothing. But it’s hard not to. If there’s even the slightest possibility of Lance coming back to life, Keith wants to know. Needs to know. No one deserves to live more than Lance. Keith wants that for him, so bad. But he knows there’s a possibility this is just wishful thinking. Maybe he can’t feel Lance at all. Maybe his brain just tricked him into it. Trying to make him see what he wants to see. Lance, alive and human. Lance, with him. Touching him. He understands where Lance is coming from. He does, but.

He’s weak. He’s weak, and he’s in love with his boy, and he just wants this boy to be happy. It hurts, how much Keith wishes he could make it happen. But there’s only one thing that could make Lance happy, and that’s out of his control. God, this is fucking unfair.

At dinner, Keith remains uncharacteristically quiet, while Shiro, Adam and Krolia chatter away. He knows he should be participating in the conversation, but he’s distracted. He’s distracted by the boy who’s currently sitting upstairs, in the room, all alone, wishing he could be with his own family. God, he can’t wait for dinner to be done, so he can go upstairs, and be with Lance. Keith knows how that sounds, but he’s weak.

By the time dinner _and_ dessert are done, it’s an hour left until midnight, and Keith quickly hurries upstairs. He pauses, however, before entering the room. He can hear soft cries coming from within. He expected Lance to be sad tonight, which is why he’d been trying his best to leave dinner early, and go upstairs to keep him company. But now, he’s not so sure. Does Lance really want Keith’s company right now? Slowly, he knocks on the door.

“Come in,” Lance calls out, voice soft.

Keith opens the door and steps inside. Lance sits on the bed, trying his best to wipe away the remnants of his tears. But there’s no point. Keith knows, and Lance knows Keith knows. “Sorry,” Lance whispers, voice cracking. “I just…”

“You miss them, I know,” Keith says, joining Lance on the bed, kneeling in front of him. “I wish you could be there with them.”

“I want to move on, Keith,” Lance admits. “I can’t do this ghost thing. It’s fun, and cool, but it also hurts. No one sees you, no one hears you, and it’s so lonely.”

“I wish I could give you what you want,” Keith says. “I’d do anything at all.”

“Hug me?”

Keith doesn’t even hesitate, before he’s leaning forward and wrapping his arms around Lance, pulling him close. It still feels strange, and the warm, tingly feeling pulses through the entirety of Keith’s body, but it’s pleasant. Strange, but pleasant. He’ll take this, _pseudo contact_ , over no contact any day. This lets him hug Lance, and it’s good enough.

Lance buries his face in Keith’s neck, and all Keith feels is more tingly warmth. It’s not quite a human touch, but it’s still wonderful. And Keith wants more of it. Whatever this is.

“Lance?” Keith whispers. He feels Lance shiver slightly against him, owing to the proximity. Lance hums in response, refusing to move his face from the crook of Keith’s neck. “I want to kiss you.”

For a long moment, Lance says nothing. Keith thinks he’s messed up, and Lance has probably figured out how to go invisible, and he’s going to do that right now. But Lance doesn’t do anything of the sort. He just stays as he is. That’s okay. Keith can live with this.

But then, slowly, surely, he lifts his head. Pulls back a little. Hardly any space between their faces. Lance’s closes his eyes. Leans in. Keith’s eyes close, just as Lance’s lips brush against his. Not quite a kiss. Just a brush. Then, he feels some pressure on his mouth. Lips pressed against his. Feels the tingly sensation in his lips, now. They just stay like that for a good few seconds, lips pressed to one another’s. Slowly, Keith lifts his arms. Wraps them around Lance’s waist, pulls him in.

Lance sighs against his mouth, brings his own arms up to wrap around Keith’s shoulders. And then, slowly, Lance’s lips move against his. Keith kisses him back, electric tingles traveling through his spine with every brush of lips. Keith tightens his hold on Lance. “Don’t go,” he whispers against Lance’s mouth. “Please don’t go.”

Lance doesn’t say a word, just kisses him harder. Holds on tighter. Like he’ll float away if he lets go. Like Keith’s his anchor. Keith kisses back just as hard. Keith loses track of time. Loses track of himself. Loses of track of anything that’s not the boy in his arms, trembling against him, holding onto him desperately, kissing him, kissing him, kissing him _so hard_.

Something changes. One moment, Keith’s feeling soft, air like lips against, the next, he’s feeling the press of very, _very human_ lips. Soft, plush, and so very _human._ The sensation catches him so off guard, he breaks away from the kiss, and stares at the very, very _human looking_ , not a hint of translucence, very human and _very warm_ boy in his arms.

“What’s wrong?” Lance whispers, his human face flushed, pupils dilated. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Lance,” Keith says, staring in awe. “Lance, you’re _human._ ”

“Keith,” Lance groans, “Not again.”

“No, no, I’m serious!” Keith insists, grabbing hold of Lance’s arms. He starts trailing his fingers up and down. “What does it feel like?”

“Warm,” Lance says, staring down at his arm in surprise. “Warm and solid.”

“What did it feel like before?”

“Nothing like this,” Lance whispers. He looks at Keith hopefully. “Keith, do you think…?”

Slowly, Keith reaches for Lance’s hand, and guides it to his chest, pushing his palm face down on top of his heart. Places his own hand on top of Lance’s. Lance stares down at their hands, and then, Keith feels a drop of water fall onto the back of his hand. More follow.

“Lance?”

“It’s beating,” Lance whispers. He looks up at Keith, eyes brimming with unshed tears. “I have a heartbeat, Keith.”

“You do,” Keith smiles. He brings his other hand up to cup Lance’s cheek, and leaning forward, presses his lips softly to his. “Welcome back, Lance.”

 

 

“You’re gonna have some very awkward questions to answer tomorrow,” Lance says. They’re both lying sideways on the bed, arms wrapped tightly around each other.

“You mean, ‘we’?” Keith corrects, leaning forward to peck Lance’s lips. “It’s fine, we’ll figure it out in the morning.” Keith slowly smiles. “We’ve got time.”

“I can call my family,” Lance whispers, hugging Keith closer.

Keith buries his face in Lance’s neck. Kisses it softly. “Yes, you can.”

“Keith,” Lance squeezes him tightly. “Keith, they’re gonna be so happy!”

“I know,” Keith whispers, smiling. “I’m happy, too.”

Lance yawns, kisses Keith’s hair, mumbles a soft, “Me, too.”

Keith slowly removes his outer arm from around Lance’s waist, fiddles around with something behind him, until his hand lands on something soft and fluffy. He grins. “Hey, Lance?” His voice is still a whisper.

Lance pulls back slightly to look at Keith. “Yeah?”

Keith gently shoves the pillow in his face, and laughs when Lance sputters indignantly. “That’s payback!”

Lance throws the pillow off the bed, and simply stares at Keith, and Keith’s laughter slowly fades. Lance smiles softly at him. “Merry Christmas, Keith.”

“Merry Christmas, Lance.”

And maybe Keith isn’t a big believer of miracles, but maybe this one time, he’ll hand it to the Universe.

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> I know, that's a cheesy as fuck ending, but leave me alone, I'm weak. I hope you liked it! Kudos and feedback is more than appreciated.
> 
> Also, the soulmate thing is kinda implied. Didn't know how to fit it in, though. Like, Keith sensing the energy from Lance, because there's a connection there, but in this world, too, soulmates are a myth. So no one's really thinking 'soulmates' here, either. The stronger Lance and Keith's connection got, the stronger Lance's tie to the living realm gets. That's how he comes back to life. Idk man, I couldn't put too much worldbuilding into this. So please take this explanation. 
> 
> Anyway!!! Hope you enjoyed it atleast a little bit.


End file.
